


The Ghost

by missingparentheses



Category: Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-02
Updated: 2018-10-02
Packaged: 2019-07-23 17:45:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16163777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missingparentheses/pseuds/missingparentheses
Summary: Just when she feels she's losing sight of Jamie's memory, his ghost comes back to haunt her.





	The Ghost

She didn’t like to admit it, but Claire was beginning to forget his voice.

There were things she could do to hang on to it. The accent helped. When she flipped on the television and caught a news story out of Scotland, and she heard that rumbling cadence, like a clear, icy current bubbling over a rocky river bed, she felt the impact in her soul. And for a single moment, she could hear his breath in her ear again.

Most days it was distant though. She felt guilty, thought the pureness of the love they’d shared would be enough to keep his every detail in sharp view. But they say those who go blind can eventually lose the memory of color and light, and after fifteen years, eight months, and six days since that last goodbye, it was only natural. 

But sometimes, in the quiet of the night, with no sound but Frank’s gentle breathing beside her, Jamie came to her, bright and brilliant as day. Some nights she chased him away, sure it was what he had wanted when he implored her to forget him. After all, he’d long since forgotten her. His bones were dust now.

Yet his ghost refused to rest, refused to be cast aside for the man with the devil’s face. Frank’s lineage only added fuel to Jamie’s resolve to reclaim her, and Claire was powerless to the ghost of his memory.

She found her mind divided in those moments. 

Part of her sank low, let herself be consumed by the base, animal need his ghost sparked in her. It was her own hand that snaked down beneath the covers, but the touch she felt was firm, the large, calloused fingers so different from her own. And though she knew her own body well, knew the pattern of her own arousal, she gasped at the gruff voice in her ear in response to the slickness she found there,  _ Christ, Sassenach! _ It was his mouth, not her palm, that closed over her nipple, fiery red curls brushing her skin and spreading their heat like wildfire.

The other part of her hovered above and watched, speculative and judicious as she sought to find reason in the act. The mind, she knew, held vast secrets yet unknown to modern science. Memories fading in the annals of time were brought back sharp and clear in the heat of passion, and she knew the mysteries of the brain were enough to give explanation to this phenomenon. Ghosts weren’t real. Jamie was gone. He certainly wasn’t here, hot breath between her thighs, whispered murmurs of worship every bit as vivid as the day his mouth last pressed against her skin. But if the power of the unconscious mind could store such detail, perhaps greater mysteries were possible. Perhaps his ghost truly had been haunting her these fifteen years, eight months and six days, having lain in wait for centuries until she were ready for his possession.

Her higher mind kept watch on the room, on the movement of Frank’s eyes beneath their lids, as her lower self gave way to her euphoria. Jamie’s eyes sparkled at the sight, mouth slackened in wonder at the witness of her pleasure. He carried her through to its end, and as she caught her breath, her veins thrumming and warm, she felt his kisses trail languid and unhurried up the length of her body. He paused at the dip beneath her ear and whispered.

_ “Oidhche mhath leat fhéin, mo nighean donn…” _

She opened her eyes, and he was gone.

**Author's Note:**

> This is not the fandom I usually write for, but I thought I'd try for a change of pace. :) Hope you enjoyed!


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